Reasons for heart attack

Top 10 reasons for heart attacks: (Purely based on my research)


Reason 1: You are playing with your son and all of a sudden he vanishes. Doesn't respond when called. You panic until you pass out to find him squat onto the kitchen platform playing with all possible lethal weapons.

Reason 2: You have taken your son to the shop on a fine day when all of a sudden he darts out onto the road, heading into the speeding vehicles.

Reason 3: Your son is playing with the mouse (The laptop's) and decides not only to wrap it around his neck but also tighten it. (I wish he could strangle me instead and spare me the scare)

Reason 4: Your son is trying to climb the wall on 2nd floor. (The one without grill)

Reason 5: Your son is hanging from the curtain whose curtain rod is just bidding its own time before its fall.

Reason 6: Your son brings his toys and towels to shove into the flames of your stove.

Reason 7: Your husband is yelling at you for leaving the gas on and you see the little one smile accepting his mischief.

Reason 8: Your son breaks a glass and commands you to stay put and volunteers to clean it up.

Reason 9: Your son is standing on his bicycle to unlock the refrigerator. And worse, sometimes is left hanging from the refrigerator until rescued.

Reason 10: You are on the ladder doing your cleaning and sorting when he not only climbs behind you but also shakes you furiously. (Tell me what would you hold on to in such case, the ladder or your son or your faith in God)

The doctor asked me the other day if I had any anxiety issues. Damn it! When my pulse couldn't be normal in the safe haven of a hospital, I can't imagine how wild it could get in the vicinity of my son. The only solution that comes to my mind is hostel. No. Not for him but me. (i dont think any hostel would keep him)

P.S. Reason 11: when someone asks me "When is the second one coming?"

Ice Cream Works, Kondapur

My husband had always been thinking of opening a food outlet of some sort or the other. I let him postpone his thought and dream because I was scared of the risk involved and majorly because I felt he wasn't mature enough to handle it. I hadn't seen him take up anything seriously in life. For me he was a man in his thirties with his brain and heart frozen as adolescent.  But man! how wrong I was! since the plan was finalized for the ice cream franchise, I saw a complete transformation in him. I never saw him work so patiently and hard. I was skeptical till today about his friends' and his ability to deal with business of any kind. But I am happy that I was wrong. Finally his dream has a location. And its Ice Cream Works, Kondapur. They had opened it on Nov 12th, 2017

I had never written a review in my life. But I am writing one for my husband and his friends. This is for the ice cream shop that changed the careless and carefree midnight biryani eaters into more matured beings. Now that my husband's dream has a physical location, let me write something about it. 

I have never been an ice cream lover. Not that I dont eat ice creams but I dont have any unusual cravings for them. And when my husband told me about their Calcutta Meetha Paan flavored ice cream, I laughed at him. I remember the paan ice cream I ate long back at "The Great Kebab Factory", the one that I left unfinished. But this one at Ice Cream Works was awesome. I tasted a few flavors. Will try to list them but not sure that i will get the names right. 

New York Walnut fudge - (My favorite so far)

Calcutta Meetha Paan - (High on public demand)

Seetaphal Rabdi

Madagascar (something close to this name. dont remember the complete name. But was good)

Pink Guava

Imli with Chilli

Moti Choor laddu

Ate one Hazel nut flavor but dont remember the name

I liked the ones I ate. Imli with Chilli was average because I dont like Imli (Tamarind). But I think the tamarind lovers will like it. There are around 40 different flavors of ice cream. They seemed different from the regular flavors to me. May be because we have our money invested on them. But then, I asked the customers if they liked them and their expressions said it all before their words could. Besides ice cream, they have Sundaes, Waffles and Ice Cream Shakes which I haven't tasted. But so far we have got good reviews from the customers and we find few of them have already revisited with their friends. There are plans to tie up with Swiggy for home delivery.

You can find us on zomato. And please do visit the parlor and drop a review on zomato.

There! I did my part to encourage and applaud the good work done by my husband. Its your turn now. Please spread the word.

The Tastiest Omelette

My son had always been a fussy eater. Like always, I was struggling to make him eat today. After watching him spit reasonable amounts of rice, I asked him if he wanted omelette. For which he readily agreed. But leaving him alone in the living room while I was busy in the kitchen would be catastrophic. So my smart brain, gave me a smarter idea. I asked my son if he would make the omelette. He readily agreed. Man! the enthusiasm in his face is worth millions (to me.. That is). 

He broke the egg with my help and mixed a little salt and pepper. He beat the egg without spilling, while I was unnecessarily fidgeting. Some part of me, somewhere inside was telling me that he would drop the bowl and its contents. Not that we didn't have more eggs at home, but we didn't have any room freshener at home. But then, my son behaved like a gentleman this time. So I lifted him and helped him pour the contents onto the pan. I flipped the omelette myself and shifted the final product to the plate. 

I asked my son, "Who made the omelette?" He replied, "Mom." 

I asked him, "Who broke the egg?" "Me" he replied. 

"Who beat it?" "Me" he answered.

"Who poured it onto the pan?" "Me." By now, he had realized what I was trying to convey and gave me an ear to ear grin. I love to see my son smile. But love it more when he smiles for the right reason. I might not be the best mom. I sometimes break down and talk to so many mommys for help. My son is stubborn and indisciplined in many regards. But moments like these are the rays of hope trickling down the dark clouds of confusion. My fussy eater ate the omelette without complaint and when I asked if it was tasty, he said "Yes." with a radiant face. The omelette didn't have any special ingredient but the fact that it was a fruit of his effort made it tasty for him. 

I remember posting about his love for his kitchen set last year. But he came over it in a couple of months. I am sure after few more trials his enthusiasm for self made food would also die. But for now, I choose to cherish this moment. I realize its not the quantity of time we spend with our kid that matters but the quality of time we spend with them does.

Who am I?

I have always been on an identity crisis. I am a mother, daughter, sister, wife, daughter in law, a working professional. But I am yet to identify the true me. I don't know my destiny. Not sure if I am on the path that would lead me to any destination. Yet to figure out my aim in life. But then there is an identity crisis of the other sort that bugs me every now and then.

A couple of days ago I was asked if I was a Reddy. Many ask me if I am a Brahmin. I was also asked if I belonged to Telangana or Andhra. The very last week I was asked if I was a Choudhary. These are not the type of questions for which I have direct answers. I was born in Andhra Pradesh but did not live there. I was brought up at Telangana but wasn't born here. I can't associate myself to any one of the two states because I believe I belong to both the states. If truth be spoken, I am an Indian citizen and belong to India.

To talk about my caste, I am proud of my parents under whose upbringing, I never had to bother about my caste. It was not until my engineering that I got to know my caste. In a country like India where the caste hierarchy is strictly followed, I know very few people have the previlege of marrying out of caste. And I am one of them. I can neither relate myself to the caste I was born in nor to the caste I am married into. If truth be told, and facts be spoken, one's caste was based on one's occupation in ancient India. The rules of caste system were broken and the social hierarchy was infiltrated when people started venturing into various fields of work other than their family occupation. Technically speaking, my grandfather came out of his caste when he quit farming and took up a job. We have been rule breakers since long. So lets stop pretending and accept the fact. I am a software professional and so is my husband. According to me we are of the same caste. But no one would buy this logic. So be it. I don't want to fight or argue to prove my point. I am not offended when someone questions me about my caste. But I feel sorry for the present state of our nation. We say we are a developing nation and are yet stuck entertaining the age old demon of caste system. We are happily bound with the shackles of our caste and call us a free country. I can't marvel enough at our double standards.

Let us all build an identity of our own. But lets stop tagging ourselves with a caste. I think the world will be a better place to live in with a little less discrimination.

To school

It always felt good to go to school after the summer vacations. A new academic year, a fresh beginning, the smell of new books, new uniforms, new shoes, new bag. But this time its my son who would go to school. Yes. He is big enough to go to school now. After much contemplation, we finalized the school that fits our requirement. We went to his school and it was awesome. In fact all pre-schools are awesome. The walls are painted with cartoons, all class rooms are filled with colorful toys. There is a play area with slides, rockers, ride-ons and the list goes on. Basically I love the ambience of play school.

As we were speaking about the fee structure and transport facilities with the head mistress of the school, PHAATTT. My son broke one of their sturdy, unbreakable toys. I was scared the school would reject to admit him. But since my son did not exhibit any of his other feats, the headmistress didn't seem to mind. So, the single salaried us, paid the fees which is more than the consolidated fees for 4 years of my engineering studies. Yeah. I know its hard to digest. Bravo us! The single salaried us, who paid the fees. It enlightened my soul so much that I decided to kick start phase 2 of my career. Because we have to educate my son for the next 2 decades in the least. Sigh!

I am pretty much excited to see his school bag, books and uniform. Oh! his books. They are so cool. They have colorful pictures everywhere. Just the feel of owning them is heavenly. I quickly covered and labeled them as per the instructions given by the school. My husband doesn't understand why I am so excited about anything that has to do with my son's school. And that is one more item on his list of "non decipherable qualities of my wife".

Few of my relatives, are astonished and question me as to why am I sending him to nursery at the tender age of 2 and a half. Man! For all you know I should be sending him to the army school for the riot he is. Besides, I want him to play with kids of his age, make friends and learn to share toys rather than bullying me and his dad. I am dying to see his teacher after the class tomorrow. I feel so sorry for her. But since we have already paid the fees, I don't think the school authorities have the right to reject him now.

I can't wait to send him to school. Because, I can finally take the blame off me and blame the school for my son's mischief and lack of discipline. 

Amarendra Baahubali and Devasena

Baahubali 1- The beginning shows Devasena bound with chains, staying loyal to her husband, not giving in to Bhallaladeva's power. One would think, who would do such a thing in present times. Now, when the rate of intolerence in a relationship is high and when marriages are breaking apart at lightening speed for no big reasons, which gorgeous princess would stay loyal to her dead husband and why?

I get the answer in the conclusion. i.e. Baahubali 2. Baahubali 2 shows us the love story of Devasena and Amarendra Baahubali. Devasena is portrayed as a bold and brave princess, someone who wouldn't compromise her self respect for anything in the world. Amarendra falls for her. Not just for her beauty but also for her bravery and her pride. The pride that comes from doing what is right. The pride that comes from being just.

On Shivagami's orders Amarendra takes Devasena to his kingdom but not before promising to uphold her self respect and to shield from insults of any form. And he stands true to his promise. Doesn't he?When he tells his mom that she has erred by promising his brother, Devasena's hand for marriage without Devasena's consent? It doesn't stop there. When Shivagami orders for Devasena's imprisonment, our tall, muscular and handsome hero stands by his lady love protecting her. Thats what a true man does. Protect his lady love from the ills of his own family. That is what we all want. Just the words, "You are wrong" to be uttered when they are wrong. The words "She is right." to be uttered when we are right. Not just pointing out fingers at us for every God damn reasons. Now again, most of the men would stand by their lady love against all odds BEFORE MARRIAGE. Because he yet has to officially own her. Because there is still a risk of losing her. Because there is still the insecurity of someone better proclaiming her.

The best part I liked in the movie is the scene when the pregnant Devasena is brought to trial in the court for chopping some pervert's fingers. She stands tall in front of the king and Shivagami. She never falters for a second because she knew she hadn't commited any crime. Then comes our tall, mascular and handsome hero who stands by his wife. Wow. Amarendra Baahubali not just supports his girl friend but also his wife. Bravo Amarendra Baahubali! Thats such a unique feat - Standing by your wife. That is what all of want. A husband to stand by his wife when she wasn't wrong. A husband who would protect his wife's self respect and not call it her ego. And yes for someone like Amarendra Baahubali, we would stay loyal until our graves.

I was never a movie buff but I knew that Rajamouli is a great director who never gave a single flop to the industry so far. I was awed by his movie "Eega". But I never gave a heck to Rajamouli as a person. For me, he was yet another director like all others. The graphics shown in the movie are great and the experiment done with the movie itself was a bold move by the director as we all agree. But just for portraying the characters of Devasena and Amarendra Baahubali, I bow to him. I think we all have a lesson to learn here instead of cribbing for a better climax fight or talking about the upcoming Mahabharata project (which may as well be rumours).

My tryst with painting

Painting was one of my hobbies when in school. I had used acrylic, poster and water colors. I never used oil paints until was gifted a set by my brother. Well, I was never a pro at painting but had good instincts at the strokes I delivered with my brush. I never pursued my interests later and never took out the time to get myself trained at the said art.

Many years later, my brother gifted me set of paint brushes and oil paints. Voila! I was so very happy and couldn't thank him enough. But on second thoughts, I believe it was so cruel of him to think that I could use those costly paints without feeling guilty of wasting them on my long forgotten art of painting. But nevertheless, I decided to put them to use one day. To bring out the hidden talent in me(which is still hidden). And sat down to paint the below painting.

But I realised that I neither had a color palette to mix the colors nor any thinner to use with the paints.

My brilliant brain gave me the idea and I used a plate for a palette and the asian paints thinner which gave the strongest stench. I patiently gave the strokes for the sunrise trying to avoid the stench in the background and was quite happy with the effect. But would have been happier if I hadn't smudged the already colored portion again and again forcing myself to redo the painting again and again, thereby wasting the colors again and again. And my paper now looked many times thicker than its usual self.

Now when I washed my brushes, I realised I couldn't wash them with water. So I made a failed attempt at washing them with the thinner. And as a final attempt to clean my brushes, I wiped them with a cloth. This is what attempting to paint after a decade taught me. Painting is a lot more messier than crayons or color pencils. Paints don't color just paper or canvas. They can also color your flooring, clothes and hands. Its impossible to paint without unintentional smudgings. Now you know why my sun has a black spot. No. Its not the ozone depleted spot. I am yet to figure out how to wash my brushes they are still stiff hinting the need of proper washing. Nail paint remover? Do you think I should give it a try?

P.S. My painting still carries the stench of my thinner.